


Pizza Party

by LinksLipsSinkShips, Suspicious_Sushi



Series: Food Porn [2]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Consensual Sex, Food Porn, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Workplace Sex, but like... literally, pizza dough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Sushi/pseuds/Suspicious_Sushi
Summary: When Link asks Josh for cooking lessons, he isn't sure what to expect. As the two work together to prepare dough for homemade Hot Pockets, Josh teaches him an interesting technique, and things get a little out of hand.





	Pizza Party

**Author's Note:**

> We encountered this very NSFW gif the week before the Pizza Dough episode and the Pizza Food Fears and this happened in DMs, and that week sort of pushed us over the edge and we decided to edit our incoherent babbling into a story so hi, here's this story.  
> [Gif is NSFW, as I mentioned.](https://twitter.com/daddyspuppyboi/status/1137491808492105731?s=09)

“See, you have to knead it carefully,” Josh says, wrapping the dough around Link’s hardened cock. “It’s a two-fold sort of perk here. You can knead it just right like this, and you need less salt if you work in your special seasoning.”

“If I knew this is how you made that penis pizza, I’d have called you out on the extra penis,” Link laughs. When he’d asked Josh to teach him how to cook, he’d anticipated they’d start with some kitchen basics, and homemade hot pockets were reasonable enough, he figured, but he hadn’t entirely anticipated the techniques Josh insisted on. He isn’t complaining, though, doing as Josh instructs, one hand on Link’s ass, guiding him forward to fuck the dough.

There’s something about it that feels good, feels … right. Feels a little colder than a person, but not in a bad way. Mostly, it’s like he’s burning hot otherwise, under Josh’s touch and Josh’s stare. “Here. Can I, uh. Can I help you knead it?” Josh asks, and Link turns, hand still wrapped around the dough, which is still wrapped around his achingly hard erection.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Josh doesn’t need to be told yes, twice, nudging down his shorts and sliding into the dough opposite Link. They’re sliding against each other and Link is hyper-aware of that fact. It almost feels like a shame that Rhett isn’t in the kitchen with them, but Link is certain he’ll enjoy their efforts and their personal seasonings.

Clearly, Josh needs more, if the way he wraps the dough around them better, catching what’s falling, is any indication. He’s got a good grip on both of them as they push into the dough, but his free hand … that catches in Link’s hair, throwing him a little bit off-guard. By the time Josh has him in a bruising kiss, Link isn’t thinking about Rhett, not thinking about anything but the tight grip, the rough kiss, the raw dough. It’s good for him, and he gets lost in it, even as Josh releases the kiss.

Josh doesn’t let go of Link for long. No, he lets go long enough to take his own shirt up and off over his head. He’s been dying to give Link this view, to show him what he’s been working so hard on the past few months. Link doesn’t follow him on Instagram, and until now, he’s had no reason to send him thirst traps personally. His muscles ripple with every tense thrust, and he runs a hand down his own chest slowly, digging his nails into his skin. The way Link’s gaze slides down his body, the way he looks at the red marks his nails leave behind? It’s all working for him. He can’t help but grin.

Link, though, can’t help but  _ touch.  _ Josh looks good. He’s worked so hard, and … he wasn’t kidding when he said he and Link were close. They have a good bond, and Link feels the need to touch, to run his fingers over Josh’s abs, to feel the marks Josh’s own nails had left behind.

Apparently, this is what they’re doing, and Link pulls off his own shirt to keep pace. Even for a 41 year old, he thinks he’s still pretty hot if he says so himself. Josh’s eyes show his approval: the broad chest, the dark hair trailing down to the tiny waist, hips he can now see snapping into a doughy closed fist without the canopy of cotton? It’s working for him, and a low, breathy “fuck” escapes him as he revels in the feeling of Link’s touch. His hands move impulsively, grasping Link’s hips as his thumbs rub circles there, sliding his hands forward more to grasp that tight, tight ass, letting Link take care of the dough between them, their intense need.

Link, as always, is vocal. It’s so hard not to shout “yeah, that’s good,” or some other ridiculous thing. Instead, he lets out a low growl of approval. The wandering hands already have Link needy and wanting more. He’s only barely remembering to keep stroking them with the dough.

Josh isn’t holding the dough, either, his current fixation now on kneading Link’s ass like it’s dough, so firm, yet yielding with every flex of his skilled hands. Josh pulls him closer, dough oozing to the floor as Josh’s cock rubs against Link’s abs, leaking tip leaving a trail of the evidence of his excitement and need. “The dough can wait,” Josh growls.

Link’s in complete agreement, the concept of Hot Pockets already forgotten. He only breaks contact long enough to get on the counter, to pull Josh closer, between his legs as he kisses him and feels Josh’s hands on his ass all over again. The only thing keeping him from freezing his ass off on the cold counter are Josh’s warm hands acting as the perfect barrier there. His mouth latches to Link’s neck, sucking aggressively, hands pulling Link’s cheeks apart, sneaking a finger between them, rubbing teasingly.

He wants to prove to Link that even a top can be dominated, wants Link to know how good it feels to be on the other side, wants to make Link beg for him the way he’s heard Rhett beg for Link time and time again when they think they’re being private in the quiet seclusion of their office. Link’s skin looks patchy and white from excess flour, handprints smeared here and there on his skin. Josh could come from the sight of him alone, he thinks, the way he looks so deliciously ravaged just like this. Still, he holds off, persisting in his endeavor, laying Link out on the large island, spread out and wanting.

“Oh damn. Josh, what’re you…” he trails off. It’s too much to focus on, and he fades into, “oh yeah, yeah, like that,” in a half-growl, rocking his hips against the finger there, seeking more. It’s so good. Josh is giving him everything he didn’t know he wanted. “Like that,” he repeats.

“Yeah?” Josh breathes. “You like that? You want more?” He’s hoping he isn’t taking this too far, but he can feel his confidence building with every sound from Link. Adjusting his placement, he spreads Link’s legs up and over his shoulders, kneeling to kiss and bite Link’s thighs, testing the waters as he gets closer and closer to the crevice of his ass. He grabs Link’s cock and tugs it, giving an experimental lick to his opening. Being this close, this intimate, it’s so much. He’s shuddering and losing himself, mouth and tongue moving with a mind of their own. He pulls back only the smallest amount to moan, “Oh God, Link, you taste so fucking good.”

“Oh, oh wow,” Link’s breath-laugh-moaning as he rubs Josh’s head to hold him down there. He’d tangle his hands in his hair, but there’s still not much of it. He goes with what he’s got, rubbing his hands against the freshly shaved fuzz that’s there. “Shit, that’s … okay, yeah, right there.” His eyes are fluttering closed, and he’s squirmy, wiggling and rocking against Josh’s warm tongue but also pulling away, but still yet keeping Josh in place to come with him. He’s vocal again, and he digs his heel into Josh’s back so he can’t move away. “What the crap, Josh?” he mutters when he hits a particularly good spot. “How do you—” He was going to ask how he knew what Link liked so well, but he cut off with a loud moan, arching his back.

Josh’s knees hurt, keeling on the hard floor like that, but fuck it, it’s worth it. To hear and feel Link reacting like this, it’s unlike anything Josh had ever fantasized about. This is better. It’s real. He’s watching how sinful and filthy Link looks in the midst of pleasure, loves how his lashes flutter and mouth opens. He’s selfish. Gluttonous, even. He wants more. He reaches out blindly on the counter, knocking over spices and hearing the thud of an open bag of flour. Grasping what he hopes is the right bottle, he pulls it to him in a cloud of fine white flour dust. Yes, this is it. Uncapping the oil single-handed, he tips it enough to coat his hand and slides his fingers against Link, watching in fascination as they so easily slip inside.

It’s easier for Link to take with the oil, and honestly, Josh has to know how good this makes Link feel because in the moment, Link isn’t even paying attention to the mess that surrounds him. His head is thrown back and he’s choking out words Josh can’t hear, but then he clears his throat and says them louder. “Fuck me.”

The two simple words radiate a heat that spreads like wildfire through Josh’s body. He chokes on his initial response as he pumps his fingers into Link, fully enraptured by how he writhes around on the flour-covered island. His full-body blush is a stark contrast to the dusty white. Lifting himself to a standing position, Josh reaches for the oil once more. His hands shake and slide on the bottle, excitement and slickness slowing him down as he tries to hold it long enough to drizzle it on his hand. He pushes Link back on the counter so his ass is right at the edge, tilting the bottle until a stream of oil slides down the sides of his hips, pooling around his cock and slipping down the crease of his ass. He’s a glistening mess of perfection.

Slathering his cock, Josh lines himself up to Link, the tip against his hole as he pushes against it teasingly. “Want my cock, baby? Want me to fill you up?” He feels a little awkward saying it, mostly action instead of words, damn near face-palming at his own phrasing. “Sorry. That was very 80s cheesy porn of me.”

Link didn’t even notice. He was focused on how “baby” sounded. He’s so used to Rhett calling him daddy or bo or whatever else. He doesn’t mind it, not in the slightest, hooking a leg around Josh and smiling. The flour fingerprint on the lens of his glasses makes Josh harder to see, but he pays little mind to it, instead giving Josh the encouragement he seems to need. “Come on, Josh. Stuff me like a cream-filled donut.” That, Link is very aware,  _ is  _ cringy. Now is a bad time to suspend his intelligence, and he tries again. “Yeah. I want you.”

Josh taps his cock against Link’s ass a few more times, lining himself up once more, this time following through and pushing in. Link’s tight heat pulls him deeper, wrapping around his length as he slides in. A long, stuttering groan escapes him as he stills when he bottoms out. Fighting the urge to fill Link immediately is so, so damn hard. He manages to tamper it down just enough to start moving, hands sliding to Link’s hips and holding him down as his thrusts pick up speed. “Fuck,” he cries out. “You’re so tight.”

“Yeah, well,” Link retorts, voice strangled as he winces, “usually I’m the one doing the fucking.” He’s rocking into it, though, legs around Josh’s back, heel digging into his newest tattoo. He reaches out to draw him into a kiss. “You’re good,” Link mumbles against his lips. “Big.”

“Yeah?” Josh says. “I’m gonna tear you up, make you remember this big dick.” All cringe aside, he emphasizes his words with a snap of his hips, burying himself as deep as he can go. He’s taking the leg Link doesn’t have wrapped as tightly around him and he’s pressing Link’s foot to his chest, bending it and holding it as leverage as he pounds deeper and harder into Link, swallowing every moan as he kisses him just as forcefully.

“Yeah? Gonna tear it up? Do it.” Link encourages him, keeps moaning and doesn’t even try to be quiet. He can’t even really remember everything that led up to it, but he’s so glad it did, whatever it was. Josh feels amazing in him, better than he could have imagined. “Harder,” he grunts at one point. It isn’t a demand. He’s hoping for it anyway.

At Link’s challenging words, Josh stops long enough to grab Link and lift him, muscles easily taking the weight of the man beneath him and wrapping his legs around his waist and he holds him up and turns him, walking to the wall and shoving him against it. He cries out with every thrust he continues to pound into Link with everything he has, mumbling obscenities into Link’s shoulder.

The crossfit  _ has  _ been paying off. Clearly. Link is doing the same to his shoulder, mumbling against it and groaning and whimpering. His cock is sandwiched between them, the friction doing a lot for him. “Fuck. Josh, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna—” He can’t finish his sentence, stopping short of saying it because Josh’s cock is hitting him in the right way, making him cry out and hit his head against the wall. “Oh gosh,” he says. He’s so, so close.

Crying out, Josh spreads his feet more, thrusting sharply and chasing that sweet spot Link seemed to love so much. Managing to maneuver his weight enough to free a hand, he strains to keep Link upright, but he manages, locking his fist around Link’s oil and precome-slicked cock. He pumps it in time with his rutting. “Oh God.” He whimpers. “Fuck, Link.”

Link can’t hold off any longer, not with the spot Josh is hitting, and not with the slick way he’s jerking him off. He’s coming between them, on his chest hair and on Josh’s chest all the way up to his chin. They’re both a mess, not just from flour. “You gonna fill me up?” He asks the second he can catch a breath.

The feeling of Link’s ass constricting—and then his words—are enough to send Josh over the edge. “I’m gonna fill your pretty ass,” he says, face contorting as he tenses, one final hard thrust as he presses him against the wall, mouth on Link’s, moans and cries muffled as he rides out his release, doing what he promised.

“Shit,” Link mumbles after. “That’s good. That’s real good.” He’s breathless and he wasn’t even doing the hard part like Josh was. He lets him lower him to the ground, pulling him into a desperately hungry kiss. This was exactly what he needed. Josh’s chest heaves as he catches his breath, but he still kisses Link back, just as hard.

“That was … wow.” Josh’s breath still hadn’t evened out enough to say the sentence any clearer, but he has it in him to kiss Link again. The damage to the kitchen is overwhelming, nothing permanent, but definitely messy. Cleanup? That was going to be a task for sure. Josh scoops the near-forgotten dough from the floor, tossing it in the trash, a smug grin on his face. “Take two?”


End file.
